Don't Let Go
by Leviathan Castiel
Summary: *SPOILERS SEASON 4* (I know... angels don't sleep. Bear with it please.) Castiel is having nightmares after saving Dean from Hell. First published fanfic. Slight Destiel... Enjoy! :) (Rated T for language and graphics[not porn perverts])


Don't Let Go

"Don't let go Cas! Don't let me go!" Dean yelled over the horrible sizzling of his own burning flesh. He struggled unwillingly against the burning grip of yet another angel. He already knew this angel though. Castiels glowing nails dug into Deans shoulder, oddly Dean found it comforting to know Castiel had such a strong grip on him.

Castiel's black wings flapped faster and harder as he pressed onwards. The light of the Earth just a few wing flaps away. Castiel felt like he could breathe the air already. At the same time though he felt hopelessly lost, like the light was just a mirage, a trap, just waiting to be sprung.

Castiel gripped Deans shoulder tighter. He would save Dean Winchester. For the Lord, his Father, commanded him to. Many of his brothers and sisters failed in the journey, but not him. He would save Dean Winchester. He wouldn't fail.

Dean's torn and beaten body sagged under Castiel's hand. It felt like they were underwater and an overwhelming pressure hugged them in all the wrong ways. Deans' ears popped and he shut his eyes against the pain. Castiel fought stubbornly higher. He wouldn't give up, not now. Not ever. Castiel cared _too _much.

The fires of Hell licked at his skin. Castiel glanced back at the hunter and cried out. Dean Winchesters body was a mere blur against the violent reds, whites, and oranges of Hell. Castiel fought back angry tears, forcing himself to continue towards the Earth.

"Don't let go! Don't let-"

Deans' ragged body and soul fell from Castiel's hand. Castiel screamed and chased after the human, refusing to let him endure Hell longer. Castiels' celestial body roasted as he dove after dean. He snapped his wings back behind him, making himself accelerate with every passing second. _Faster. Faster! _He thought to encourage himself. He reached out, trying to catch Dean with his still glowing celestial body, though he was as far from Heaven as he had ever been.

Suddenly Dean was burning, just out of Castiels' reach. He was screaming and begging for mercy, begging for help, "Castiel! Help me Castiel! Cas! Please!"

Castiel chased after the tortured man, arms outstretched, his hands glowing a vibrant red much like the mark rising on Deans shoulder. Castiel threw himself towards Dean over and over, but it was useless. It felt like slamming into a clear glass door. Something held the angel back, and kept him from reaching the mutilated soul.

Dean writhed in agony, angry crimson welts rose on his chest. Deans body burned in a brilliantly blue fire. Castiel watched in pure anguish as Deans' skin began to melt off of the bones and muscles. Castiel beat furiously against the invisible barrier. He roared wordlessly. The torture of watching his charge, his _Dean, melting _before his eyes, left him thrashing in horror, anger and incomprehensible pain. The powerful, infallible Dean Winchester was a mere puddle here in Hell. Castiel looked away, screaming wordlessly into Hells' suffocating darkness. Deans' body started to take shape out of the sickly puddle. The elder Winchester whimpered pitifully as his lips reformed. Again, he called out for Castiel, his voice trembling and breaking with every dispirited sound. His green eyes widened with fear and uncertainty. Slits carved themselves into his skin. Another invisible predator tortured Dean without mercy. Ripping his limbs, tearing his skin, biting, grating, clawing and burning every inch of the once unconquerable Winchester.

Castiel cringed with every new open wound. He screamed in unison to Deans' paralyzing howls. Castiel felt every pain, every rip or tear, every burn or bite that Dean endured seven-fold.

"No!" Castiel roared, forcing his own wails down. "I am an angel of The Lord! I must raise you from Perdition!" He threw his fists violently against the invisible wall. "It is the will-"

Castiels' eyes blew open with the burning glow of his celestial form. Burning light poured from his sockets. He thrashed about on the bed and groaned in concentration. _Dean was my charge! _Castiel thought furiously. _How could I have failed him?! I failed my biggest assignment…I am a failure. I couldn't save Dean Winchester._

A vicious tornado-like wind whipped through the room, throwing the furniture and bedclothes all around the room. The thin blankets and sheets were plastered to the wall, as Castiel thrashed in agony. The wooden headboard behind Castiel cracked as his back arched off the bed, his celestial form threatening to escape the vessel. It's intention to obliterate any being who might potentially harm the Winchesters, especially the shorter, meaner and cockier of the two.

A handprint raggedly carved itself over the crack in the headboard. Castiels' hands clenched and unclenched themselves on the bed, looking for a grip, but only tearing into the mattress and ripping through the foam and springs. He groaned, using more energy than he thought possible to keep his _Grace _bound to the vessel.

"Castiel? Cas?! Wake up Cas! Sonofabitch! Castiel!"

Two hands gripped Castiels' shoulders and shook him. "Cas, c'mon buddy, you gotta wake up. You're starting a hurricane. Castiel!" The strained voice continued.

Castiel heard the voice, but only as a faint whisper. It was the contact, the pressure, the _bond _forcing Castiel to contemplate this being. He turned his head towards the speaker, light pouring from every inch of his vessels body.

"Cas I swear to God, if you don't wake up-"

Castiel stopped moving under the grip of the other person. His body fell back onto the bed, slack and depleted. The physical strain of keeping his celestial form in his vessel was strenuous, but Castiel refused to return to sleep. Reality slammed into Castiel. Dean was safe. Castiel had already gone to Hell, retrieved the hunter and brought him nearly unscathed to the surface of the Earth. He refused to endure the discerning nightmare any longer. Refused to watch Dean Winchester suffer any longer in the bowels of Hell.

Castiel opened his eyes and stared at Dean Winchester. The shirtless hunter stood over the angel, his hands still digging into the angel's shoulder. Castiel's eyes poured over Dean's smooth skin, unscathed except for the odd scar here and there. None of the angry red welts crossed his chest. None of the horrible cuts or scars Castiel had dreamed of were there. And he was whole. No longer the puddle Castiel had… nightmared about. He stared at the hand print still red and raised on Deans shoulder. The only scar Castiel had left from Hell.

Castiel sighed, feeling whole himself, again. During the nightmare, once Dean fell from his grip Castiel felt broken, shattered from the inside out. The hands digging into the angels shoulders comforted him oddly enough. Castiel could feel Dean, he knew that he _had _succeeded. He hadn't failed his Father. He hadn't failed Dean Winchester.

Deans eyes grew wide and scared. He met Castiels' blue with his green, and relief flooded brightly through both of them. "Cas, dude, you were having that nightmare again. I'm surprised the front desk didn't call yet. It sounded like the apocalypse happening all over again," Dean whispered as if he were comforting a wild animal. Castiel reluctantly broke the eye contact and peeked at Deans' hands. Dean dropped Castiels' shoulders as if they were full of croatoan virus.

Castiel struggled into a sitting position, oddly already missing the contact and warmth Dean had shared only moments before. He sighed in disappointment. The group had hoped having different motel rooms, one for the Winchesters and one for Castiel, would help the hunters sleep more soundly. _I suppose this was a mundane idea, _Castiel thought tiredly.

"Cas, You okay man?" Dean asked. He sank onto the edge of the bed, glancing at Castiel with weary eyes. Castiel felt compelled to usher the beat hunter to bed, but he knew Dean wouldn't go unless he knew _Cas _was okay. But that didn't stop Castiel from noticing how horribly drained Dean seemed.

Dean's soul, which Castiel had a direct line into seeing as part of his soul was intertwined with it, groaned and moaned with fatigue. The hunter hadn't gotten a solid nights sleep in weeks. His shoulders sagged and dark circles were under his eyes. Deans' normally spiky and sharp hair, was flat and slicked down with sweat and oils. Castiel wanted to gather Dean up in his arms and let him fall asleep. Just to help everyone. Castiel didn't need sleep, if the Winchesters needed it. The angel stared at Dean just happy he was alive and not being tortured endlessly in Hells' dungeons.

Castiel whispered, "I didn't let go Dean. I was the one who didn't. Our bond was too strong. I wouldn't let go. I didn't let go of you Dean."

Dean's eyes grew wide. "Is this going to be another chick-flick moment, 'cause, only Sammy gets to have those with me."

Castiel stared at Dean not sure whether to be offended or confused. He tilted his head and murmured, "I apologize Dean for making you uncomfortable. I never considered the notion-"

Dean held up a hand and said, "Dude, it's cool, I don't need your fancy ass angel talk. You were just, ya know, glowing and shit. And… fuck Cas. You scared the Hell out of me! What kind of nightmares do angels even have?!" Castiel leaned forward as if he were about to answer. Dean continued though, without so much as a sideways glance at Castiel. "I mean seriously dude. _Every fucking time _I ask you about your terrifying nightmares you zap your way into angel land. This time, no. You're not going anywhere Cas." Dean grabbed his angels shoulders and shook him as if to make a point. "You're gonna tell me what the _Hell_ you dream about that makes the sheets stick to the wall, the furniture fly and makes you look like your gonna smite someone with your whole fucking body!" Deans anger echoed around the room.

"Dean, I do not wish-"

"Fuck what you don't wish," Dean cut him off shortly. "You can't go all real live angelic form on me, _twice_, in your sleep and expect me to just sit here and-"

"Hell." Castiel whispered. "The nightmare we are discussing, is of Hell. When I raised you from Perdition. But it's not accurate Dean. You fell from my grip in the… nightmare. I could not save you Dean. Something stopped me." Castiel looked helplessly down at his hands. He felt that if he zapped out Dean would be infuriated, but that might be better than this clenching uncertain feeling whizzing through Castiel. Deans eyes softened and he reached out, almost touching the angel, before pulling his hand back, the same uncertainty playing in Dean.

Castiel suddenly needed, very desperately, to reaffirm this wasn't just some other dream. That this was reality. That he _had _indeed saved Dean from Hell. That he didn't let go.

Castiel crawled forward slowly and tentatively laid his hand over the scar. A sharp sizzling burn raced through Dean. Castiel felt it too. They both cringed and gasped, but their touch didn't break. A faint red glow shimmered off of the scar.

Dean seemed to understand Castiel's train of thought exactly. "I know Cas, you got me." Dean wrapped his arm around himself and laid his hand on top of the hand Castiel still pressed against the scar.

The sheets on the wall slowly fell back to the floor. Moonlight poured through the windows and illuminated the room. Castiel could feel Dean's body sagging under his hand. Dean shook himself and moved to stand, his hand still subconsciously over Castiels'.

"Dean, please don't go," Castiel whimpered, still holding Deans shoulder tightly.

Dean slowed and muttered warningly, "Cas…"

"Please?"

Dean seemed to argue with himself silently for a moment before he fell back onto the bed and sighed. "If Sam asks, you knocked me unconscious with your freaky angel mojo again."

"But Dean… lying is not-"

Dean rolled over and slapped his hand over Castiels' mouth. "Shut up Cas."

Castiel smiled at Deans worn voice. He sounded like he needed to rest. They all did. The nightmares Castiel fought against were happening more frequently as of late. Dean was facing a whole new threat of Hell, with Lucifer rising and trying to start the apocalypse. Thoughts roared through Castiels' mind, _What if Dean says 'yes' to Michael? What if Sam says 'yes' to Lucifer? What if Lilith somehow comes back.? What about Raphael? _

Dean groaned and wrapped his arm around Castiel, pulling the angel closer to him. "Cas you gotta make that head of yours shut up. We need to sleep."

The angel curled up against the hunter, keeping his hand over the scar. "I'll never let go Dean. I promise."


End file.
